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KOBK
"RILLA'S GONE TO GET SOME ''more moss," Rainsplash mewed. "When she wakes up, we can give her a drink." "There's barely enough water in that little trickle by the rocks for us," grumbled Buzzardflight. "I don't know why we're wasting it on a cat who's bound to die anyway." He cast a baleful glance at Skye's unconscious form, huddled in a nest in the middle of their living quarters. Cloudtail gave him a sharp glance. "What kinds of cats would we be if we just let her die?" he demanded. "I'm just saying," Buzzardflight defended himself. "We're sacrificing precious time to care for her, and what has she done for us? It's her fault that she got hurt, because she's the one who went into the woodlands even when we warned her not to." "She's new to the island! She was scared and she must've panicked!" said Mosspaw. "We can't let her die for it." Listening to the others quarrel, Canary was inclined to agree with Buzzardflight. Skye hadn't been here for two days and she was already causing so many problems. They couldn't afford to care for a cat like her, especially considering how rude and rebellious she was. She seemed intent on disregarding any and all advice, disobeying and substituting common cordiality with snarky remarks and- ''Sounds a lot like someone else, doesn't it? A voice piped up inside her head. Canary flinched involuntarily. She did not ''want to think about her younger self. Her younger self had made way too much trouble, and Canary liked to think of herself as she was now, calm and in control. "I need to clear my head for a moment," she muttered. "I'll be out on the beach if anyone needs me." "If anyone needs you," echoed Buzzardflight with a snort. Ordinarily, Canary would've pinned him to the ground and asked him if he wanted to be disembowled or pushed off the peak of Graypoint, but today she spared him. Lashing her tail in irritation, she ducked out of the alcove and made her way down to the thin strip of sand below the Jagfang. "Pathetic excuse for a beach," she grumbled as she padded over the sand, swearing every time a piece of sharp rock poked at her paws. "Couldn't this be a tropical paradise, at least?" She cast a baleful glance up at the treetops, just visible past Graypoint. Even in the morning light, they looked sinister. She just couldn't understand how Skye had headed straight into the woodlands, especially seeing how new she was to the island. ''Maybe that's why. She doesn't have this wall of fear built up in her. Yet. Canary was fairly confident in the island's ability to each this arrogant newcomer a lesson. Her thrashing might've already done that. Canary wondered what had beaten Skye up so thoroughly. Surely it couldn't be a cat. It had to be some sort of wild creature. Just another reason they had to figure out a way to get off this forsaken island.